Guest guest Posted September 3, 2002 Report Share Posted September 3, 2002 so no blame no credit ,happy days thanks judi --- ***** It comes down to a matter of knowing "where" to look. Look to the looker! There's your "culprit"! Looking to your thoughts is like chasing butterflies, not a one of them are worth a damn. Catching yourself in the act of being yourself is more like it. Judi Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 3, 2002 Report Share Posted September 3, 2002 yeah tottaly agree about the thoughts,i dont get the self part,when im just sitting doing nothing by myself that seems okay,relating to other poeple sometimes,i come away from the encounter and feel like its just all past stuff rehashed but am not aware of it at the time and it just feels not so good,everything just seems like past ,so i feel like the self changes all the time in relation to circumstances,is that what you mean in relation to catching the self ,just being aware of it ariel --- Judi Rhodes <judirhodes wrote: > > > > so no blame no credit ,happy days thanks judi --- > > ***** It comes down to a matter of knowing " where " > to look. Look to the looker! > There's your " culprit " ! Looking to your thoughts > is like chasing butterflies, not a one of them are > worth a damn. Catching yourself in the act of being > yourself is more like it. > > Judi > > http://mobile..au - Messenger for SMS - Now send & receive IMs on your mobile via SMS Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 3, 2002 Report Share Posted September 3, 2002 yeah what is that ,is that a chidhood thing who needs that ariel --- Judi Rhodes <judirhodes wrote: > > - > ariel cathcart > nisargadatta > Monday, September 02, 2002 6:09 PM > (unknown) > > > you know the more time that i spend just sitting > with > my thoughts it seems that there is nothimg > whatsoever > of value going on there,mmm ariel > > ****** Ha! :-) > > Ram Tzu knows this... > > You're willing to take limitless blame, > so long as you can keep getting a little credit! > > Ha! > > > Happy Days, > Judi > > http://www.users.uniserve.com/~samuel/judi-1.htm > > TheEndOfTheRopeRanch/ > > > > > > > > http://mobile..au - Messenger for SMS - Now send & receive IMs on your mobile via SMS Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 3, 2002 Report Share Posted September 3, 2002 yeah tottaly agree about the thoughts,i dont get theself part,when im just sitting doing nothing by myselfthat seems okay,relating to other poeple sometimes,icome away from the encounter and feel like its justall past stuff rehashed but am not aware of it at thetime and it just feels not so good,everything justseems like past ,so i feel like the self changes allthe time in relation to circumstances,is that what youmean in relation to catching the self ,just beingaware of it ariel --- ******* Yes, there is no "self" Ariel, it's all just an "act". You're looking to be "somebody", some "Self" that does not in fact exist. Seeking and identity are one and the same. Other than that, there is no "one" here. And a person who is considered "enlightened" is just completely and thoroughly hep to that fact and has dropped the game of it. For all intents and purposes, they're "dead". Through inquiry, they *walked* right into their death in other words. But that so-called person was never alive in the first place. It was just an act. Judi Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 3, 2002 Report Share Posted September 3, 2002 - ariel cathcart Nisargadatta Monday, September 02, 2002 7:08 PM Re: (unknown) yeah what is that ,is that a chidhood thing who needsthat ariel --- ******* Who cares? What's interesting is watching what you're *doing* and how you're actually "creating" your *self*. Now THAT'S intersting! Judi Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 3, 2002 Report Share Posted September 3, 2002 beautifulll ariel --- Judi Rhodes <judirhodes wrote: > > > - > ariel cathcart > Nisargadatta > Monday, September 02, 2002 7:08 PM > Re: (unknown) > > > yeah what is that ,is that a chidhood thing who > needs > that ariel --- > > ******* Who cares? What's interesting is watching > what you're *doing* and how you're actually > " creating " your *self*. Now THAT'S intersting! > > Judi > > http://mobile..au - Messenger for SMS - Now send & receive IMs on your mobile via SMS Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 3, 2002 Report Share Posted September 3, 2002 - ariel cathcart Nisargadatta Tuesday, September 03, 2002 3:18 AM Re: (unknown) beautifulll ariel --- *** Yes, does "selfishness" have any relevance here? Who you gonna call, Ghostbusters? :-) You're doing it yourself. Period, end of "story". Nitey-nite, lights out. Judi > > > yeah what is that ,is that a chidhood thing who> needs> that ariel --- > > ******* Who cares? What's interesting is watching> what you're *doing* and how you're actually> "creating" your *self*. Now THAT'S intersting!> > Judi> > http://mobile..au - Messenger for SMS- Now send & receive IMs on your mobile via SMS Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 3, 2002 Report Share Posted September 3, 2002 I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain'd, I stand and look at them long and long. They do not sweat and whine about their condition,They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things, Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago, Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth. **** Walt Whitman Happy Days,Judi http://www.users.uniserve.com/~samuel/judi-1.htmTheEndOfTheRopeRanch/ Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 3, 2002 Report Share Posted September 3, 2002 Nisargadatta, " Judi Rhodes " <judirhodes@z...> wrote: > " I think I could turn and live with animals .... " Whitman )))) Yes, it is tempting, especially in a world that appears so confusing, to imagine some sort of relief in the pre-rational state. The motive to change states and conditions is what precipitates the search -- to have things be other than they are, to have What Is be otherwise. LoveAlways, b Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 3, 2002 Report Share Posted September 3, 2002 - hrtbeat7 Nisargadatta Tuesday, September 03, 2002 2:43 PM Re: (unknown) Nisargadatta, "Judi Rhodes" <judirhodes@z...> wrote:>"I think I could turn and live with animals ...." Whitman)))) Yes, it is tempting, especially in a world that appears so confusing, to imagine some sort of relief in the pre-rational state.The motive to change states and conditions is what precipitates the search -- to have things be other than they are, to have What Is be otherwise.LoveAlways,b ********* It's not a matter of "relief", it's a matter of "self" understanding, which is nothing but your selfish "self" creation, moment to moment. You're *doing* it right now, you don't have to go very far to see it. Judi Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 3, 2002 Report Share Posted September 3, 2002 Nisargadatta, " hrtbeat7 " <hrtbeat7> wrote: > Nisargadatta, " Judi Rhodes " <judirhodes@z...> wrote: > > > " I think I could turn and live with animals .... " Whitman > > > )))) Yes, it is tempting, especially in a world that appears so > confusing, to imagine some sort of relief in the pre-rational state. > The motive to change states and conditions is what precipitates the > search -- to have things be other than they are, to have What Is be > otherwise. > > > LoveAlways, > > b Bob -- do you really believe this biased human judgment that animals are in a prerational state? That's not what they tell me ... Have you discussed this belief of yours heart-to-heart with any animals lately? Concerned, Dan Dolittle Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 3, 2002 Report Share Posted September 3, 2002 Nisargadatta, " Judi Rhodes " <judirhodes@z...> wrote: > > > - > hrtbeat7 > Nisargadatta > Tuesday, September 03, 2002 2:43 PM > Re: (unknown) > > > Nisargadatta, " Judi Rhodes " <judirhodes@z...> wrote: > > > " I think I could turn and live with animals .... " Whitman > > > )))) Yes, it is tempting, especially in a world that appears so > confusing, to imagine some sort of relief in the pre-rational state. > The motive to change states and conditions is what precipitates the > search -- to have things be other than they are, to have What Is be > otherwise. > > > LoveAlways, > > b > > ********* It's not a matter of " relief " , it's a matter of " self " understanding, > which is nothing but your selfish " self " creation, moment to moment. You're *doing* it right now, you don't have to go very far to see it. > > Judi Yes, indeed -- it's not a matter of looking for relief, it's recognizing the illness for what it is ... -- Dan Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 3, 2002 Report Share Posted September 3, 2002 > > ********* It's not a matter of "relief", it's a matter of "self" understanding,> which is nothing but your selfish "self" creation, moment to moment. You're *doing* it right now, you don't have to go very far to see it. > > JudiYes, indeed -- it's not a matter of looking for relief, it's recognizing the illness for what it is ...-- Dan ***** Yes, the "illness" known as "Bob", "Tom", "Jane", "Dick" and "Harry". Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 3, 2002 Report Share Posted September 3, 2002 Nisargadatta, " Judi Rhodes " <judirhodes@z...> wrote: >It's not a matter of " relief " , it's a matter of " self " understanding, which is nothing but your selfish " self " creation, moment to moment. You're *doing* it right now, you don't have to go very far to see it. ))) Yes, Judi -- i understand that this is your view. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 4, 2002 Report Share Posted September 4, 2002 Nisargadatta, " dan330033 " <dan330033> wrote: Bob -- do you really believe this biased human judgment that animals are in a prerational state? That's not what they tell me ... Have you discussed this belief of yours heart-to-heart with any animals lately? Concerned, Dan Dolittle )))) Ah, Danji, freedom includes freedom from concern. Of course, there are as many different points of view among animals as there are among humans, but i have done a bit of research in this area, and here is what i have discovered so far: there are certain dogs, for example, whom i have chatted with in this regard (alone, and with the help of authentic animal communicators), and they have indicated to me that there is an evolutionary process of understanding in the canine world, where differences are mainly in the angle of vision. For example, there are dogs who have attained a fairly profound level of communion, and wonder at the craziness they see humans displaying. They asked me, for instance, why most humans do not " go to heaven " on a regular basis the way they " saw " me doing. I was able to determine that they were referrring to their practice of " letting go " into the ecstasy of being itself -- dying daily, so to speak, to limiting self-reference. On the other hand, they uniformly report that most of their species is still mucking about in what we would consider an infantile level of adaptation. The next three pieces i am including in this post, though a bit long, may further shed some light on my relationship with animals, extracted from a memoir: Chapter 6 Squirrel Guru " Laughter is the heart's way of coming out to take a good look at Itself. " Ixnay Ah, the Summer of Love – San Francisco in the late 60's! It seemed as if it would never end – that the whole world would soon be born again on the waves of this new consciousness that was washing through the land! In fact, by 1969, the vibration of change had even begun to permeate that bastion of conservatism – the Roman Catholic Church. As a seminarian in my seventh year studying for the priesthood, the sweet aromas of marijuana could occasionally be detected on my garments when I returned from an evening stroll with some of my more daring classmates. By this time, after years of keeping its students cloistered for most of the year behind walls that brooked no " pollution " from the outside world, we were intermittently allowed to go home on weekends. It was an hour's drive back to San Francisco from the south, where the seminary was situated, and my parents' had recently given me a '62 Ford Falcon with which to make the journey. On a lovely Friday in the Spring of '69, I was on my way home with a fellow classmate, Joe Spaduski, and the plan was to drop him off at his place, which was on the route I followed to San Francisco. We sang along to the acid rock from an " underground " radio station, and when we arrived at his place, he invited me in to sample something I had never encountered – hashish. Of course, in those days we were all ripe for experimentation, and so we smoked a few pipes, and soon were laughing like inmates from a very funny farm! He had the stereo cranked at full blast, and I was enjoying my dawning recognition of the hidden significance of The Grateful Dead, when I noticed that my head was pounding louder than the music. I asked Joe if he had any aspirin. He grinned and told me that he had something even better! " Whatever! " I replied, and soon found myself washing down two little blue pills, and thinking nothing of it. " Guess what you just took? " Joe leered. " Dunno – what? " I responded. " You just took your first psychedelics! " he almost exploded with glee. " Wha…?? " I asked. " Yeah, man – mescaline! A nice solid dose – should make the rest of your drive home verrrry innner-resting! " " Whatever… " I managed to exclaim, and bid him a quick and slurred adios. I really had no idea what to expect. Of course, by now I had heard plenty of anecdotal reports about visions and illuminations, as well as tales of nightmarish bad trips and mental freak-outs, but I have always had a particular trust in life, and felt that I was ready for whatever it wanted to see through me. Yeah – " Whatever… " As I cruised down the Bayshore Freeway, I began to notice that none of the cars were actually moving – it was the landscape that was moving, and we were all on an incredible moving freeway, just watching the scenery pass by. This was quite unusual, and it was beginning to dawn on me that something was … different. Not only that, but objects had grown amazingly vivid and even cartoonishly liquid, and that my body extended out to blend with all of them, to the point where I could no longer distinguish where " I " left off and they began. Now I had to wonder, " Who is driving this car? " And then even further, " What …is…car? " Fortunately by that time, I was travelling through Golden Gate Park, and was somehow able to pull over on the last few minutes of habit energy carried over from my previous driving experience. When I came to a stop, I had no clue as to what kind of enclosure I was sitting in. As " luck " would have it, a window was open, and I managed to eventually climb out that window and wander over to the base of a near-by tree, where I collapsed in a cloud of purple haze. Some indeterminate amount of time later, I noticed a little voice calling me by name. I looked around, and observed only a very relaxed squirrel perched in front of me. " How ya doin', Bob? " " What the…? " " Yessiree, Bob! " " Wait a minute…! " " Wait for what, Bob? Wait for you to finally realize that you have been wasting your time on a religion you really don't give the slightest damn about anymore? Wait until you're ordained and then wake up to the fact that you've been unconscious for as long as you can remember? Wait until you finally realize that any meaning you are granting to any of this is purely an arbitrary result of your confused conditioning filters? Wait for a gold-embossed letter from the Almighty saying: `Hey man: QUIT FARTING AROUND!' Wait until you recognize right down to your funky little cells that you've been sleep-walking through most of your entire life, filled with beliefs that someone told you were yours, but which have nothing whatsoever to do with WHO YOU ARE? Wait for that, Bob? " I was reeling! It wasn't so much that the squirrel was talking to me – I could accept that – it was what he was saying that really rocked me! He was right! I had been such a fool! All these years… all these years! I started to thank him, but he told me to think nothing of it! " Just part of the service we're here to provide, Dear Boy! " I staggered to my feet, dragged myself over to the car, and was somehow able to navigate the rest of the way home. When I stumbled through the door to my house, my two Labrador Retrievers came rushing up to me, filled with joy. " He can hear us, " they exclaimed – " you can hear us! " They were jubilant, and I joined them in the celebration of our cross-species communion. We rolled around laughing in mutual glee on the floor for quite some time, and then I told them that I was leaving the seminary. They both laughed in unison: " About fuckin' time! " Later that night, my parents were not quite so understanding, but my decision was firm. The following Monday, I returned to school and announced my departure, and then went home, sold all my stereo equipment, and headed to the high Sierras. There, by the banks of a crystal cool stream, I spent the next 6 months renewing my love affair with the Mystery, and all I can say about that right now is: What a Mystery the Mystery Is! Start seeing everything as God But keep it a secret. Become like a man who is Awestruck And Nourished Listening to a Golden Nightingale Sing in a beautiful foreign language While God invisibly nests Upon its tongue. Who can you tell in this world That when a dog runs up to you Wagging its ecstatic tail, You lean down and whisper in its ear, " Beloved, I am so glad You are happy to see me. Beloved, I am so glad, So very glad You have come. " ~Hafiz Chapter 8 On the Rocks The Zen Master Ummon, when asked about the Tao said: " Walk On! " Returning south to San Francisco after a 6-month stint as a grateful hermit in the Sierras, my heart tugged me over to the Pacific coastline, where I eventually found myself leisurely touring along spectacular Highway 1. By the time I had reached the mouth of the Russian River it was late afternoon, and although the shoreline was rather socked in by a coastal fog, I decided to attempt a climb down the steep cliffs leading to the beach. What moved me to challenge the elemental fates on that day I cannot recall, but the time-tested refrain - " It seemed like a good idea at the time… " - could probably be inserted here. I was about halfway down the side of the cliff wall when I realized I was in a bit of a predicament. I could proceed no further in my descent, since there was no apparent footing. However, I had managed to reach a point that made any ascending retreat equally unviable. As I pondered the situation, my already nervous bowels were suddenly liquefied by the howl of a demon animal straight from the pits of hell itself. As I peered down, I observed a rabidly drooling mad German Shepherd (dog) growling up at me. We were the only two creatures on the foggy beach that day, it was getting dark, and a chill damp wind was now sweeping fiercely up the cliff face. I was losing my footing on the rock indentation where I had temporarily perched. It was starting to crumble and I had to pee -- urgently. The wind began to amp into a shriek. The insane dog's barking blended with the voice of the wind, becoming even more hostile and incessant. My heart felt like it was going join my bladder in some volcanic activity. Time seemed frozen, and the experience now seemed to loom as a defining moment for me. Many have experienced this at some point in life - the psycho- physiological matrix of fear that cannot be casually swept aside by the regular busy lies we tell ourselves. All the little internal chattering narrative that we perpetually indulge runs smack into the unavoidable maw of clear & present breathless reality. First come the impotent curses, then the cold sweat panic, then the hallucinatory spree of mind in overwhelm, and then... For a brief eternal instant the setting sun on the Pacific horizon peeked out below the cloud cover, and quickly spread its gorgeous illumination along the underbelly of the now transfigured blanket, and what a sight it was - the most riotously effulgent sunset I had ever seen! Tears poured involuntarily down my cheeks - the imminent danger completely forgotten in the glory of the scene. Just then a seagull, white with ribbons of gray tapering down its wingspan, soared in a kind of lazy slow motion directly into my line of sight, and the wonder of its aerodynamism simply stopped my mind! It was as if I had never really Seen this before or, to be more precise – it was as if I was Seeing it for the very first time again - as I had when I was baby - with no words to limit it, no definitions to bind it to the mind's dusty library of accumulated associations. I Was this Wonder! All of it was me - free and utterly perfect just as it Is - no past or future or any sense of time at all - just This! Now! My heart was at peace. The world was at peace. Peace. And now I noticed my body almost floating down the side of the cliff. There was no calculation involved at all in the descent. I am sure, if you were an observer, you would have seen, in the dusky twilight, a rather remarkable feat of rock climbing! When I alighted on the beach, the dog came and snuggled its body against mine, and together we ambled off along the sand into the darkness, empty and full - Children of the Majesty. This world is not what it seems. No, not at all, my friends - not at all! Given the daunting task of climbing back up the cliffs at this point, it was obvious that I was going to be spending the night on the beach with my newfound friend. The sky was clearing to reveal the winking arrival of the starry canopy, and I set about gathering driftwood for a makeshift shelter and warming fire. Although the winds had softened to a gentle stir, there was still a brisk chill in the air. Fortunately, I had worn a heavier jacket, anticipating the cold. In it's pocket I found an old book of matches that I knew would find a use someday. After settling in to my newly constructed quarters, I amazed the dog (and myself) by invoking the driftwood's inner spirit to smoke and then to dance into flame within the glad circle of sacred stones I had arranged for the occasion. The wood was quite damp and theoretically should have been immune to my weak matchbook conjuring, but it was more than willing to comply with our heating needs. In fact, the fire burned steadily till dawn without the further addition of a single piece of wood, but this was only the keyhole to a door which opened that night and welcomed me into a realm of wonder I would never forget. In a way, this reality we usually take for granted is simply a result of our interpretation. This fact had been made very clear to me in my recent dialogue with Convict Bob. Consequently, when we are mysteriously drawn into a magical relationship with all of life, we are not likely to impose preconceptions on how things are supposed to be. Rather, things are allowed to reveal their unique voices without interference from the comparative, judging mind. In doing so, they become like bridges to a broader perception – one that embraces all possibilities and welcomes the music that is always singing through the spheres. In this expanded view, the world is not approached as some collection of random, disconnected, and often conflicting phenomena, but more as a realm of psycho-physical unity to be honored rather than manipulated. Yes, we are responsible for all of it! Here everything becomes alive – everything that appears is breathed by the same living magic. Everything is already just as it is – ready to make love in the most exquisite fashion! On this night, I was swept into the magical world, and it seemed like the most natural condition possible. As I watched the immense full moon appear over the cliffs and track out over the glistening Pacific, my heart was simply broken by the gifts of this ancient lover. In the stillness of that evening, gently massaged by the mesmerizing mantra of the tidal chant, I wept long and softly at the blindness with which I had stormed through the years. I wept in gratitude for the blessing of what now stood so obvious before me – the staggering beauty of this indivisible unity! I wept for my friends who would find me a fool to be weeping so, and I wept for the simple joy of being alive, for being a body permeated by this living magic of reception and release. Somewhere in the middle of the night, as shooting stars raced across the sky in a rain of incredible panoramic ecstasy, I turned to my canine friend and sang: " My Dear Friend, in the loving gaze of our Sister the Moon everything is translucent. Light is dancing between the visible and invisible. Can you here the soft laughter echoing in the air? There is no source for this mirth, and so it must be our imagination. But if there is no source for this imagination, then it must just be soft laughter, echoing in the air. I say I am here, you say you are there. I wonder how this can be. What pours through you swoons in me. My blood runs through the veins that connect the galaxies - connect the galaxies with soft laughter, pouring through these imaginary veins with no source, like wine. I wonder how this can be - invisible pouring into visibility. So translucent in this soft laughter! I've lost the way back to sobriety. The little drops of wine I left to mark my way have apparently evaporated - laughing softly in the air on this clear and gentle night. Having things be any different than they are has gone the way of wine drops that now connect the galaxies - the galaxies that laugh softly in the air, even on this still and pregnant night. I wonder how this can be: I set out to find the God who laughs softly in the air, forgetting it was I dancing between visible and invisible, softly laughing. " The German Shepherd acknowledged this with a soft whine, and in his heart there was only loving agreement. It had never been otherwise to him, though he betrayed a slight and coy amusement that it had ever been so for me. I got up, shed my dusty clothes, and walked out into mother ocean. She was happy to curl around my ankles in welcome, to rise up to my waist in fond receipt, to draw me out into the depths of her, where I surrendered to the current's flow and drifted on my back beneath the velvet kiss of infinity. Eventually I washed up on the shore and, after using my clothes to dry off, strolled with my friend down the beach, whispering mad nothings back and forth. SNIP Later the next morning I bade my wolfy friend farewell. He seemed to wink as he replied: " In parting let me say: if you must be off and on your way, keep your head in the clouds but your feet on the ground and perhaps we shall once again meet someday. Until we do, remember it's true -- the love we've shared is the love that's you! And if you occasionally think of me, remember our birth in the loka of mirth, and have a good laugh as you're treading the path because none of this is what it seems to be! " We shared a final hearty laugh and, as I drove off towards San Francisco, I noticed a sign along the road announcing that I was now leaving " Beautiful Jenner " . Actually, I don't think that I have ever left, although I knew even then that I would return here someday. from Chapter 10 I was currently renting a small cabin about 5 miles outside of town. It was situated near a vineyard that backed into rolling hills, and the nearest neighbors were about a mile away. I had inherited it from another counselor who had burned out after two years at the center and returned to his home in the mid-west somewhere. Along with the cabin I had unwittingly gained a small, non-descript cat who wandered around the premises spreading cat hairs. Chronically allergic to cats, I tried to avoid this character, but he was apparently oblivious to my health issues and persisted in his shedding. Eventually, I felt that I needed to take more decisive action. As he was nonchalantly lounging on a widow sill one sunny morning, I scooped him up and carried him out to my car. Discerning my intent he offered a mild protest, but my resolve was firm, and I would not be dissuaded from my chosen course. I drove four or five miles up into the hills to release the little fellow into the next phase of his earthly destiny, reasoning that he was semi-wild and independent anyway, and would likely adapt without much effort to his new environment. The hills were stocked with abundant rodent life, and he had already demonstrated his skills in that regard by occasionally depositing mice cadavers at the cabin's front door. Without much ado I bid him good luck and happy hunting and then drove off, forgetting that things are not always what they seem to be. The cabin itself possessed an odd quality, as if it was simultaneously appearing in this as well as some other, invisible realm. Not only the cabin, but the surrounding hills themselves seemed to evoke a subtle mix of mysterious intuitions at a subconscious level that I had difficulty accessing. Initially I ignored these whispers, speculating that perhaps they were just the lingering vibrations from an ancient Indian encampment in the area. I had recently begun practicing Zen meditation, and attributed these perceptions to the mere play of mind. Sometimes we can be rather naïve in our assumptions. One day I was to find out just how much. It was a beautiful early afternoon in Autumn. Northern Californians called this time Indian Summer and, although I never knew the derivation, it seemed like an appropriate designation for this lovely season. I felt like a hike into the hills behind the cabin that day, and started off along a deer path that wound lazily up through the oaks and manzanita shrubs that thrived on the hillsides above the vineyard. Curiously, as I passed by certain random trees I felt a strange sense of apprehension just below the surface of awareness. It felt as if they were somehow conscious players in a spell that was being woven around me! I had spent a good deal of time in the woods, and in fact had lived as a hermit for six months in the Sierras during the previous year, but I had never felt anything like this before. As I proceeded further into the hills, I began to sense an ambiguity about my orientation and, to my growing dismay, eventually realized that I was lost. I had been wandering around in circles for over an hour, and had no idea now how to continue. I found a rock outcropping to sit and ponder the situation, but as I took my seat I noticed a group of large buzzards directly overhead and was instantly aware that they were keen on some sort of rapidly approaching death. My hair literally stood on end as a series of violent shivers churned through me, and without further thought I jumped up and began to run! It didn't matter where – I just had to move, and I let my body take me on whatever course it would. Time played havoc in my mounting panic, and it was nearly dark when I finally – gratefully – reached my cabin, slammed the door behind me, and exhaled. Whatever that was, I believed that I had left it behind in the hills. I was mistaken. A deafening series of clashing cymbal-like sounds precipitated my spontaneous release of both bladder and bowls as I stood with my back plastered against the inside of my front door. Before I could attend to myself, blinding lights and shrieking howls started encircling the cabin – slowly and methodically at first, but soon accelerating into a dizzying rush that threatened to sweep the cabin itself into a tornado whirlwind and whisk it from its foundations into the open maw of chaos and catastrophe! The walls began to vibrate fiercely, and something told me: " Here it comes! " Suddenly it was dead quiet. Too quiet. I now realized to my mounting horror that I was no longer alone in the cabin. Some kind of dark and menacing force was materializing in the corner across from me. A pitch-black shadow was growing before my startled eyes, blotting out the faint light from the window and creeping across the ceiling and floor towards me. I stood paralyzed in fear and excrement as my eyes darted helplessly in search of some escape. Suddenly spotting an opening, I raced towards the hallway leading to my bedroom before it too was swallowed up in the oncoming shadow. Slamming the door, I dove like a child under the bed and waited there, shivering uncontrollably. Suddenly sensing movement to my side, I inadvertently banged my head on a bed board in startled shock before realizing that the creature next to me was the cat! The cat! Somehow, over the course of several weeks since I had dropped him off in the hills, he had managed to find his way back to the cabin, slip in through an open window, and was now calmly stretching and yawning next to me! I was incredulous – so much so that I had even momentarily forgotten the terror that was now pressing ominously against my bedroom door. With feline grace the cat then stood up and padded in a most regal and dignified manner to the edge of the door that was threatening to give way under the relentless pressure being applied from the other side. Pausing there, he then tilted his head back and let out the most enormous lion's roar I had ever heard! The echo of his shout reverberated through the whole valley, it seemed, and then there was complete silence. I listened for any sign of the horror that had invaded the house, but heard nothing. Crawling out from under the bed, I proceeded carefully to the door and, opening it gingerly, found no evidence of anything amiss. The cat scampered into the living room and pounced up onto the couch and resumed his relaxed pose, as if nothing extraordinary had just transpired. After looking around to inspect the place, I peeled off my ruined clothes and headed into the bathroom for a long shower. When I had dried myself off, I went to the kitchen cabinet and found some herbal tea. I brewed a cup and then joined the cat on the couch. He climbed into my lap, meowed, and together we kept vigil until dawn. As the brilliant morning sun streamed through the windows, I was engulfed in a mood of deep peace. Outside, a family of deer was grazing near the window, and the valley was filling with gorgeous birdsong. Since that night, I have never been troubled by allergies to cats, although I am more sensitive to direction when I go off walking in the woods. So, Danji, just a few observations and recollections -- how about you? LoveAlways, b Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 4, 2002 Report Share Posted September 4, 2002 Nisargadatta, " Judi Rhodes " <judirhodes@z...> wrote: ***** Yes, the " illness " known as " Bob " , " Tom " , " Jane " , " Dick " and " Harry " . ))) As you see yourself and believe yourself to be, so you are, until you aren't, Judi. If you regard yourself as an illness, then you are indeed ill. However, to generalize your own perception of yourself into some universal judgement is what is known as sollipsism. LoveAlways, b Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 4, 2002 Report Share Posted September 4, 2002 judi your a legend thanks ariel --- Judi Rhodes <judirhodes wrote: > > > - > ariel cathcart > Nisargadatta > Monday, September 02, 2002 7:08 PM > Re: (unknown) > > > yeah what is that ,is that a chidhood thing who > needs > that ariel --- > > ******* Who cares? What's interesting is watching > what you're *doing* and how you're actually > " creating " your *self*. Now THAT'S intersting! > > Judi > > http://mobile..au - Messenger for SMS - Now send & receive IMs on your mobile via SMS Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 4, 2002 Report Share Posted September 4, 2002 judi ,whats going on here /seriously i haven't been on this computer for about 36 hours i think but in that time i was thinking of sending in some walt whitman poems i love his stuff ,i am in you r mind or you in mine, wre all joined somewhere in this thanks ariel, you r a blessing --- Judi Rhodes <judirhodes wrote: > > I think I could turn and live with animals, they are > so placid and self-contain'd, > I stand and look at them long and long. > > They do not sweat and whine about their condition, > They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their > sins, > They do not make me sick discussing their duty to > God, > Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with > the mania of owning things, > Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that > lived thousands of years ago, > Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole > earth. > > > **** Walt Whitman > > > Happy Days, > Judi > > http://www.users.uniserve.com/~samuel/judi-1.htm > TheEndOfTheRopeRanch/ > > http://mobile..au - Messenger for SMS - Now send & receive IMs on your mobile via SMS Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 4, 2002 Report Share Posted September 4, 2002 Nisargadatta, " hrtbeat7 " <hrtbeat7> wrote: > Nisargadatta, " Judi Rhodes " <judirhodes@z...> wrote: > > > >It's not a matter of " relief " , it's a matter of " self " understanding, > which is nothing but your selfish " self " creation, moment to moment. > You're *doing* it right now, you don't have to go very far to see it. > > > ))) Yes, Judi -- > i understand that this is your view. **************** A view, is after all, a view. And what isn't a view, just isn't a view. -- Dan Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 4, 2002 Report Share Posted September 4, 2002 Bob -- You sure put a lot of letters out there sometimes -- and I -- I simply have got to be moving on -- what's going on for me? everything! Viewless Love, Dan Nisargadatta, " hrtbeat7 " <hrtbeat7> wrote: > Nisargadatta, " dan330033 " <dan330033> wrote: > > Bob -- do you really believe this biased human > judgment that animals are in a prerational > state? That's not what they tell me ... > > Have you discussed this belief of > yours heart-to-heart with any animals lately? > > Concerned, > Dan Dolittle > > > )))) Ah, Danji, > freedom includes freedom from concern. > > Of course, there are as many different points of view among animals > as there are among humans, but i have done a bit of research in this > area, and here is what i have discovered so far: > > there are certain dogs, for example, whom i have chatted with in this > regard (alone, and with the help of authentic animal communicators), > and they have indicated to me that there is an evolutionary process > of understanding in the canine world, where differences are mainly in > the angle of vision. For example, there are dogs who have attained a > fairly profound level of communion, and wonder at the craziness they > see humans displaying. They asked me, for instance, why most humans > do not " go to heaven " on a regular basis the way they " saw " me doing. > I was able to determine that they were referrring to their practice > of " letting go " into the ecstasy of being itself -- dying daily, so > to speak, to limiting self-reference. On the other hand, they > uniformly report that most of their species is still mucking about in > what we would consider an infantile level of adaptation. > > The next three pieces i am including in this post, though a bit long, > may further shed some light on my relationship with animals, > extracted from a memoir: > > > > Chapter 6 > > > Squirrel Guru > > > " Laughter is the heart's way of coming out to take a good look at > Itself. " > Ixnay > > > > Ah, the Summer of Love – > San Francisco in the late 60's! > It seemed as if it would never end – that the whole world would soon > be born again on the waves of this new consciousness that was washing > through the land! In fact, by 1969, the vibration of change had even > begun to permeate that bastion of conservatism – the Roman Catholic > Church. As a seminarian in my seventh year studying for the > priesthood, the sweet aromas of marijuana could occasionally be > detected on my garments when I returned from an evening stroll with > some of my more daring classmates. > By this time, after years of keeping its students cloistered for most > of the year behind walls that brooked no " pollution " from the outside > world, we were intermittently allowed to go home on weekends. It was > an hour's drive back to San Francisco from the south, where the > seminary was situated, and my parents' had recently given me a '62 > Ford Falcon with which to make the journey. > On a lovely Friday in the Spring of '69, I was on my way home with a > fellow classmate, Joe Spaduski, and the plan was to drop him off at > his place, which was on the route I followed to San Francisco. > We sang along to the acid rock from an " underground " radio station, > and when we arrived at his place, he invited me in to sample > something I had never encountered – hashish. Of course, in those days > we were all ripe for experimentation, and so we smoked a few pipes, > and soon were laughing like inmates from a very funny farm! > He had the stereo cranked at full blast, and I was enjoying my > dawning recognition of the hidden significance of The Grateful Dead, > when I noticed that my head was pounding louder than the music. I > asked Joe if he had any aspirin. He grinned and told me that he had > something even better! " Whatever! " I replied, and soon found myself > washing down two little blue pills, and thinking nothing of it. > > " Guess what you just took? " Joe leered. > " Dunno – what? " I responded. > " You just took your first psychedelics! " he almost exploded with glee. > " Wha…?? " I asked. > " Yeah, man – mescaline! A nice solid dose – should make the rest of > your drive home verrrry innner-resting! " > " Whatever… " I managed to exclaim, and bid him a quick and slurred > adios. > > I really had no idea what to expect. Of course, by now I had heard > plenty of anecdotal reports about visions and illuminations, as well > as tales of nightmarish bad trips and mental freak-outs, but I have > always had a particular trust in life, and felt that I was ready for > whatever it wanted to see through me. Yeah – " Whatever… " > > As I cruised down the Bayshore Freeway, I began to notice that none > of the cars were actually moving – it was the landscape that was > moving, and we were all on an incredible moving freeway, just > watching the scenery pass by. This was quite unusual, and it was > beginning to dawn on me that something was … different. Not only > that, but objects had grown amazingly vivid and even cartoonishly > liquid, and that my body extended out to blend with all of them, to > the point where I could no longer distinguish where " I " left off and > they began. Now I had to wonder, " Who is driving this car? " And then > even further, " What …is…car? " > Fortunately by that time, I was travelling through Golden Gate Park, > and was somehow able to pull over on the last few minutes of habit > energy carried over from my previous driving experience. When I came > to a stop, I had no clue as to what kind of enclosure I was sitting > in. As " luck " would have it, a window was open, and I managed to > eventually climb out that window and wander over to the base of a > near-by tree, where I collapsed in a cloud of purple haze. > Some indeterminate amount of time later, I noticed a little voice > calling me by name. I looked around, and observed only a very relaxed > squirrel perched in front of me. > > " How ya doin', Bob? " > > " What the…? " > > " Yessiree, Bob! " > > " Wait a minute…! " > > " Wait for what, Bob? Wait for you to finally realize that you have > been wasting your time on a religion you really don't give the > slightest damn about anymore? Wait until you're ordained and then > wake up to the fact that you've been unconscious for as long as you > can remember? Wait until you finally realize that any meaning you are > granting to any of this is purely an arbitrary result of your > confused conditioning filters? Wait for a gold-embossed letter from > the Almighty saying: > > `Hey man: > QUIT FARTING AROUND!' > > Wait until you recognize right down to your funky little cells that > you've been sleep-walking through most of your entire life, filled > with beliefs that someone told you were yours, but which have nothing > whatsoever to do with > > WHO YOU ARE? > > Wait for that, Bob? " > > I was reeling! It wasn't so much that the squirrel was talking to me – > I could accept that – it was what he was saying that really rocked > me! He was right! I had been such a fool! All these years… all these > years! > > I started to thank him, but he told me to think nothing of it! > > " Just part of the service we're here to provide, Dear Boy! " > > I staggered to my feet, dragged myself over to the car, and was > somehow able to navigate the rest of the way home. When I stumbled > through the door to my house, my two Labrador Retrievers came rushing > up to me, filled with joy. " He can hear us, " they exclaimed – " you > can hear us! " They were jubilant, and I joined them in the > celebration of our cross-species communion. We rolled around laughing > in mutual glee on the floor for quite some time, and then I told them > that I was leaving the seminary. They both laughed in unison: > > " About fuckin' time! " > > Later that night, my parents were not quite so understanding, but my > decision was firm. > > The following Monday, I returned to school and announced my > departure, and then went home, sold all my stereo equipment, and > headed to the high Sierras. There, by the banks of a crystal cool > stream, I spent the next 6 months renewing my love affair with the > Mystery, and all I can say about that right now is: > > What a Mystery the Mystery Is! > > > Start seeing everything as God > But keep it a secret. > Become like a man who is > Awestruck And Nourished > Listening to a Golden Nightingale > Sing in a beautiful foreign language > While God invisibly nests > Upon its tongue. > Who can you tell in this world > That when a dog runs up to you > Wagging its ecstatic tail, > You lean down and whisper in its ear, > " Beloved, I am so glad > You are happy to see me. > Beloved, I am so glad, > So very glad > You have come. " > > ~Hafiz > > > Chapter 8 > > On the Rocks > > The Zen Master Ummon, > when asked about the Tao said: > " Walk On! " > > > Returning south to San Francisco after a 6-month stint as a grateful > hermit in the Sierras, my heart tugged me over to the Pacific > coastline, where I eventually found myself leisurely touring along > spectacular Highway 1. By the time I had reached the mouth of the > Russian River it was late afternoon, and although the shoreline was > rather socked in by a coastal fog, I decided to attempt a climb down > the steep cliffs leading to the beach. > What moved me to challenge the elemental fates on that day I cannot > recall, but the time-tested refrain - " It seemed like a good idea at > the time… " - could probably be inserted here. > I was about halfway down the side of the cliff wall when I realized I > was in a bit of a predicament. I could proceed no further in my > descent, since there was no apparent footing. However, I had managed > to reach a point that made any ascending retreat equally unviable. As > I pondered the situation, my already nervous bowels were suddenly > liquefied by the howl of a demon animal straight from the pits of > hell itself. As I peered down, I observed a rabidly drooling mad > German Shepherd (dog) growling up at me. We were the only two > creatures on the foggy beach that day, it was getting dark, and a > chill damp wind was now sweeping fiercely up the cliff face. > I was losing my footing on the rock indentation where I had > temporarily perched. It was starting to crumble and I had to pee -- > urgently. The wind began to amp into a shriek. The insane dog's > barking blended with the voice of the wind, becoming even more > hostile and incessant. My heart felt like it was going join my > bladder in some volcanic activity. > Time seemed frozen, and the experience now seemed to loom as a > defining moment for me. > > Many have experienced this at some point in life - the psycho- > physiological matrix of fear that cannot be casually swept aside by > the regular busy lies we tell ourselves. All the little internal > chattering narrative that we perpetually indulge runs smack into the > unavoidable maw of clear & present breathless reality. First come the > impotent curses, then the cold sweat panic, then the hallucinatory > spree of mind in overwhelm, and then... > > For a brief eternal instant the setting sun on the Pacific horizon > peeked out below the cloud cover, and quickly spread its gorgeous > illumination along the underbelly of the now transfigured blanket, > and what a sight it was - the most riotously effulgent sunset I had > ever seen! > Tears poured involuntarily down my cheeks - the imminent danger > completely forgotten in the glory of the scene. > Just then a seagull, white with ribbons of gray tapering down its > wingspan, soared in a kind of lazy slow motion directly into my line > of sight, and the wonder of its aerodynamism simply stopped my mind! > It was as if I had never really Seen this before or, to be more > precise – it was as if I was Seeing it for the very first time again - > as I had when I was baby - with no words to limit it, no definitions > to bind it to the mind's dusty library of accumulated associations. > I Was this Wonder! All of it was me - free and utterly perfect just > as it Is - no past or future or any sense of time at all - just This! > Now! > > My heart was at peace. > The world was at peace. Peace. > And now I noticed my body almost floating down the side of the cliff. > There was no calculation involved at all in the descent. I am sure, > if you were an observer, you would have seen, in the dusky twilight, > a rather remarkable feat of rock climbing! > > When I alighted on the beach, the dog came and snuggled its body > against mine, and together we ambled off along the sand into the > darkness, empty and full - Children of the Majesty. > > This world is not what it > seems. > No, not at all, my > friends - > not at all! > > > > Given the daunting task of climbing back up the cliffs at this point, > it was obvious that I was going to be spending the night on the beach > with my newfound friend. The sky was clearing to reveal the winking > arrival of the starry canopy, and I set about gathering driftwood for > a makeshift shelter and warming fire. Although the winds had softened > to a gentle stir, there was still a brisk chill in the air. > Fortunately, I had worn a heavier jacket, anticipating the cold. In > it's pocket I found an old book of matches that I knew would find a > use someday. After settling in to my newly constructed quarters, I > amazed the dog (and myself) by invoking the driftwood's inner spirit > to smoke and then to dance into flame within the glad circle of > sacred stones I had arranged for the occasion. > The wood was quite damp and theoretically should have been immune to > my weak matchbook conjuring, but it was more than willing to comply > with our heating needs. In fact, the fire burned steadily till dawn > without the further addition of a single piece of wood, but this was > only the keyhole to a door which opened that night and welcomed me > into a realm of wonder I would never forget. > > In a way, this reality we usually take for granted is simply a result > of our interpretation. This fact had been made very clear to me in my > recent dialogue with Convict Bob. Consequently, when we are > mysteriously drawn into a magical relationship with all of life, we > are not likely to impose preconceptions on how things are supposed to > be. Rather, things are allowed to reveal their unique voices without > interference from the comparative, judging mind. In doing so, they > become like bridges to a broader perception – one that embraces all > possibilities and welcomes the music that is always singing through > the spheres. In this expanded view, the world is not approached as > some collection of random, disconnected, and often conflicting > phenomena, but more as a realm of psycho-physical unity to be honored > rather than manipulated. Yes, we are responsible for all of it! Here > everything becomes alive – everything that appears is breathed by the > same living magic. Everything is already just as it is – ready to > make love in the most exquisite fashion! > > On this night, I was swept into the magical world, and it seemed like > the most natural condition possible. As I watched the immense full > moon appear over the cliffs and track out over the glistening > Pacific, my heart was simply broken by the gifts of this ancient > lover. In the stillness of that evening, gently massaged by the > mesmerizing mantra of the tidal chant, I wept long and softly at the > blindness with which I had stormed through the years. I wept in > gratitude for the blessing of what now stood so obvious before me – > the staggering beauty of this indivisible unity! I wept for my > friends who would find me a fool to be weeping so, and I wept for the > simple joy of being alive, for being a body permeated by this living > magic of reception and release. Somewhere in the middle of the night, > as shooting stars raced across the sky in a rain of incredible > panoramic ecstasy, I turned to my canine friend and sang: > > " My Dear Friend, > in the loving gaze of our Sister > the Moon > everything is translucent. > > Light is dancing between > the visible and invisible. > > Can you here the soft > laughter echoing in the air? > > There is no source for this mirth, > and so it must be our imagination. > > But if there is no source for this > imagination, then it must just be > soft laughter, echoing in the air. > > I say > I am here, > you say you are there. > I wonder how > this can be. > > What pours through you > swoons in me. My blood > runs through the veins that > connect the galaxies - > > connect the galaxies with > soft laughter, pouring through > these imaginary veins with no source, > like wine. > > I wonder how this can be - > invisible pouring into visibility. > > So translucent in this soft laughter! > > I've lost the way back to sobriety. > The little drops of wine I left to > mark my way have apparently evaporated - > laughing softly in the air on this > clear and gentle night. > > Having things be > any different than they are > has gone the way of wine drops > that now connect the galaxies - > the galaxies that laugh softly > in the air, even on this > still and pregnant night. > > I wonder how this can be: > > I set out to find the God who > laughs softly in the air, > forgetting it was I > dancing between visible > and invisible, softly > laughing. " > > > The German Shepherd acknowledged this with a soft whine, and in his > heart there was only loving agreement. It had never been otherwise to > him, though he betrayed a slight and coy amusement that it had ever > been so for me. I got up, shed my dusty clothes, and walked out into > mother ocean. She was happy to curl around my ankles in welcome, to > rise up to my waist in fond receipt, to draw me out into the depths > of her, where I surrendered to the current's flow and drifted on my > back beneath the velvet kiss of infinity. > Eventually I washed up on the shore and, after using my clothes to > dry off, strolled with my friend down the beach, whispering mad > nothings back and forth. > > > SNIP > > Later the next morning I bade my wolfy friend farewell. He seemed to > wink as he replied: > " In parting let me say: > if you must be off and on your way, keep your head in the clouds but > your feet on the ground and perhaps we shall once again meet someday. > Until we do, remember it's true -- the love we've shared is the love > that's you! And if you occasionally think of me, remember our birth > in the loka of mirth, and have a good laugh as you're treading the > path because none of this is what it seems to be! " > We shared a final hearty laugh and, as I drove off towards San > Francisco, I noticed a sign along the road announcing that I was now > leaving " Beautiful Jenner " . > Actually, I don't think that I have ever left, although I knew even > then that I would return here someday. > > > from Chapter 10 > > I was currently renting a small cabin about 5 miles outside of town. > It was situated near a vineyard that backed into rolling hills, and > the nearest neighbors were about a mile away. I had inherited it from > another counselor who had burned out after two years at the center > and returned to his home in the mid-west somewhere. Along with the > cabin I had unwittingly gained a small, non-descript cat who wandered > around the premises spreading cat hairs. Chronically allergic to > cats, I tried to avoid this character, but he was apparently > oblivious to my health issues and persisted in his shedding. > Eventually, I felt that I needed to take more decisive action. As he > was nonchalantly lounging on a widow sill one sunny morning, I > scooped him up and carried him out to my car. Discerning my intent he > offered a mild protest, but my resolve was firm, and I would not be > dissuaded from my chosen course. I drove four or five miles up into > the hills to release the little fellow into the next phase of his > earthly destiny, reasoning that he was semi-wild and independent > anyway, and would likely adapt without much effort to his new > environment. The hills were stocked with abundant rodent life, and he > had already demonstrated his skills in that regard by occasionally > depositing mice cadavers at the cabin's front door. Without much ado > I bid him good luck and happy hunting and then drove off, forgetting > that things are not always what they seem to be. > > The cabin itself possessed an odd quality, as if it was > simultaneously appearing in this as well as some other, invisible > realm. Not only the cabin, but the surrounding hills themselves > seemed to evoke a subtle mix of mysterious intuitions at a > subconscious level that I had difficulty accessing. Initially I > ignored these whispers, speculating that perhaps they were just the > lingering vibrations from an ancient Indian encampment in the area. I > had recently begun practicing Zen meditation, and attributed these > perceptions to the mere play of mind. Sometimes we can be rather > naïve in our assumptions. One day I was to find out just how much. > > It was a beautiful early afternoon in Autumn. Northern Californians > called this time Indian Summer and, although I never knew the > derivation, it seemed like an appropriate designation for this lovely > season. I felt like a hike into the hills behind the cabin that day, > and started off along a deer path that wound lazily up through the > oaks and manzanita shrubs that thrived on the hillsides above the > vineyard. Curiously, as I passed by certain random trees I felt a > strange sense of apprehension just below the surface of awareness. It > felt as if they were somehow conscious players in a spell that was > being woven around me! I had spent a good deal of time in the woods, > and in fact had lived as a hermit for six months in the Sierras > during the previous year, but I had never felt anything like this > before. As I proceeded further into the hills, I began to sense an > ambiguity about my orientation and, to my growing dismay, eventually > realized that I was lost. I had been wandering around in circles for > over an hour, and had no idea now how to continue. I found a rock > outcropping to sit and ponder the situation, but as I took my seat I > noticed a group of large buzzards directly overhead and was instantly > aware that they were keen on some sort of rapidly approaching death. > My hair literally stood on end as a series of violent shivers churned > through me, and without further thought I jumped up and began to run! > It didn't matter where – I just had to move, and I let my body take > me on whatever course it would. Time played havoc in my mounting > panic, and it was nearly dark when I finally – gratefully – reached > my cabin, slammed the door behind me, and exhaled. Whatever that was, > I believed that I had left it behind in the hills. I was mistaken. > A deafening series of clashing cymbal-like sounds precipitated my > spontaneous release of both bladder and bowls as I stood with my back > plastered against the inside of my front door. Before I could attend > to myself, blinding lights and shrieking howls started encircling the > cabin – slowly and methodically at first, but soon accelerating into > a dizzying rush that threatened to sweep the cabin itself into a > tornado whirlwind and whisk it from its foundations into the open maw > of chaos and catastrophe! The walls began to vibrate fiercely, and > something told me: " Here it comes! " > Suddenly it was dead quiet. Too quiet. I now realized to my mounting > horror that I was no longer alone in the cabin. Some kind of dark and > menacing force was materializing in the corner across from me. A > pitch-black shadow was growing before my startled eyes, blotting out > the faint light from the window and creeping across the ceiling and > floor towards me. I stood paralyzed in fear and excrement as my eyes > darted helplessly in search of some escape. Suddenly spotting an > opening, I raced towards the hallway leading to my bedroom before it > too was swallowed up in the oncoming shadow. Slamming the door, I > dove like a child under the bed and waited there, shivering > uncontrollably. > Suddenly sensing movement to my side, I inadvertently banged my head > on a bed board in startled shock before realizing that the creature > next to me was the cat! The cat! Somehow, over the course of several > weeks since I had dropped him off in the hills, he had managed to > find his way back to the cabin, slip in through an open window, and > was now calmly stretching and yawning next to me! I was incredulous – > so much so that I had even momentarily forgotten the terror that was > now pressing ominously against my bedroom door. > With feline grace the cat then stood up and padded in a most regal > and dignified manner to the edge of the door that was threatening to > give way under the relentless pressure being applied from the other > side. Pausing there, he then tilted his head back and let out the > most enormous lion's roar I had ever heard! The echo of his shout > reverberated through the whole valley, it seemed, and then there was > complete silence. I listened for any sign of the horror that had > invaded the house, but heard nothing. Crawling out from under the > bed, I proceeded carefully to the door and, opening it gingerly, > found no evidence of anything amiss. The cat scampered into the > living room and pounced up onto the couch and resumed his relaxed > pose, as if nothing extraordinary had just transpired. After looking > around to inspect the place, I peeled off my ruined clothes and > headed into the bathroom for a long shower. When I had dried myself > off, I went to the kitchen cabinet and found some herbal tea. I > brewed a cup and then joined the cat on the couch. He climbed into my > lap, meowed, and together we kept vigil until dawn. > As the brilliant morning sun streamed through the windows, I was > engulfed in a mood of deep peace. Outside, a family of deer was > grazing near the window, and the valley was filling with gorgeous > birdsong. > Since that night, I have never been troubled by allergies to cats, > although I am more sensitive to direction when I go off walking in > the woods. > > > So, Danji, just a few observations and recollections -- > how about you? > > LoveAlways, > > b Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 5, 2002 Report Share Posted September 5, 2002 Nisargadatta, " dan330033 " <dan330033> wrote: A view, is after all, a view. And what isn't a view, just isn't a view. " A horse is a horse, of course, of course, unless he's a rose by any other name, and then he's a kiss that's just a kiss, a sigh that's but a sigh, a sentimental dream of lovers, as views goes by. ~ Rumi with a View LoveAlways, b Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 5, 2002 Report Share Posted September 5, 2002 Nisargadatta, " dan330033 " <dan330033> wrote: >Bob -- You sure put a lot of letters out there sometimes -- and I -- I simply have got to be moving on -- what's going on for me? everything! Viewless Love, Dan )))) Remembering the old toast: " May you live in interesting times! " Start of the school year, perhaps? In any regard, please stay in touch -- we are very fond of you. LoveAlways, b Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 5, 2002 Report Share Posted September 5, 2002 Nisargadatta, " hrtbeat7 " <hrtbeat7> wrote: > Nisargadatta, " dan330033 " <dan330033> wrote: > > A view, is after all, a view. > > And what isn't a view, just isn't a view. > > > > " A horse is a horse, of course, of course, > unless he's a rose by any other name, > and then he's a kiss that's > just a kiss, a sigh > that's but a sigh, a > sentimental dream of lovers, > as views goes by. > > ~ Rumi with a View > > > LoveAlways, > > b This is great, Bob! When you're hot, you're hot. When you're not, you're a horse of a different color. Thanks for the smile this morning! Love Always, Meister Eggheart Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 5, 2002 Report Share Posted September 5, 2002 > So, Danji, just a few observations and recollections -- > how about you? When I was a young lad, Bob, I had a dog at one time, and two cats at another time. I liked them a lot, but now, it seems to me that keeping pets is an expression of human vanity -- except in rare cases where one might consider an exception for therapeutic reasons. It is human vanity to take something out of its context to serve as something for a human to take care of and make dependent on the human. But then, that essentially is the situation of the world -- in a variety of relatively complex variations ... " How can I make use of you -- how will your being serve my wants and needs? " ... Once in a while, I'll still visit a zoo or aquarium -- I'm not an absolutist about these things ... And when I'm with someone who loves his or her pet -- it can be a wonderful thing ... I've counselled people who were grief stricken at the loss of a pet -- who clearly provided the most straightforward and directly communicative relationship in that person's life (including that person's marriage partner, parents, siblings, and human friends) ... Awesome -- no need for substances to be amazed at the scene :-) Thanks for what you shared, Dan Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted September 5, 2002 Report Share Posted September 5, 2002 > )))) Remembering the old toast: I thought it was a curse :-))) > > " May you live in interesting times! " > > Start of the school year, perhaps? Yes -- I was off to teach a counseling class. > In any regard, please stay in touch -- > we are very fond of you. Okay. And get out to the garden to say hi to the ferns -- we are very frond of you! Everlove, Dan Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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